On one important point, Mr Clegg achieved something that should stick. In Mr Gove's original plans – which came out of the blue, and into the Daily Mail this summer – "less intelligent pupils" were to "sit simpler exams, similar to the old CSE". Reintroducing two tiers would also have reinvented the division and confusion that Conservative education secretaries of the 1980s had rightly addressed with the all-ability GCSE. Worse, it was evident that Mr Gove had relegated those stuck in the long tail of schooling to an afterthought, and had no idea about what their "simpler" exams would cover. Half a world away at the Rio sustainable development conference, the deputy PM got wind of proposals that would have robbed his refrains about opportunities for disadvantaged youngsters of the little credibility they retained amid the cuts. He went public and said this was one Tory scheme that he wouldn't wear. And, yesterday, Mr Gove stepped back from his previous, and uncharacteristic, stance of undisguised reaction. He explained to MPs that his new "English baccalaureate certificates" would not after all be O-levels in the traditional sense of an exam reserved for an elite, but instead a qualification that almost all pupils could sit.

In other ways, though, despite Mr Gove's rhetorical emphasis on modernity, it seemed like English education had come through the 90s and noughties only to be sent heading back to the 70s. There were, to be sure, some specifics to welcome: getting a grip on the exam board competition, in which market share can be grown by devising an easier syllabus; further tightening up on modules, which had at one point threatened to become interminable rolling exams. There is also, as ever, a legitimate debate about the right balance between different modes of assessment.

But a nostalgic lurch back to a world where a single three-hour written paper is the be-all and end-all risks jettisoning real advances. Thoroughgoing coursework can require pupils to get down to the library to delve into a subject in far greater depth. The danger of winding up with unbalanced study is all the greater because of Mr Gove's yearning for old-style papers which consist purely of short questions – perhaps a statement followed by the word "discuss" – and long answers written from memory. It would test a far richer mix of aptitudes to require multiple-choice comprehension exercises and written pieces of varying lengths. An editorial column is hardly the right place to say it, but there really is more to life than knocking out little essays. The examination system ought to reflect that.

The broader political point – after the great NHS fiasco – is that this is another great shakeup that was not prefigured in the coalition agreement. It is not only professional conservatism – or, in Whitehall-speak, "producer interest" – that causes teachers to ask whether it is truly necessary. At a time of stretched budgets and timetables, it is legitimate to ask whether simultaneously rewriting the syllabus for so many subjects at once, necessitating rewritten lesson plans and new textbooks, is the optimal use of resources. All the more so seeing as the whole exercise is predicated upon the education secretary's panicked take on the international league tables, which the authoritative Institute of Education has concluded is selective and unnecessarily gloomy. To improve on his marks, Mr Gove should read more widely – and then really focus on the question that the evidence invites.